Change of Wardrobe
by Razzmatazzy
Summary: Cloti, post AC. Tifa wants Cloud to update his wardrobe and put more color in there other than navy and black. Cloud resists, but Tifa has ways of persuasion that are hard to resist...


_(Author's Note: To any and all waiting for an update to 'The First Time' - I'm so sorry! I just got back from a vacation 2,000 miles away to attend my cousin's wedding several states away. That took up about 2 weeks of prep, drive, and vacationing. On the way back, I had a really bad cold that had me flat on my back, either at home or in the hospital. I also got a MASSIVE nosebleed on top of all that and when I say massive, I mean I probably lost a pint of blood through my nose in 2 hours. We went to the ER when I couldn't swallow the blood fast enough and had to start spitting it in the sink. So the last week and a half haven't been great for me._

_Even so, I managed to write this up for you, mainly because I had left it halfway through when I started 'First Time' and I couldn't leave you all hanging for something new. An update for 'First Time' is soon to follow since I'm just starting to recover. For all that are curious, yes, this one-shot was inspired by the unchanging wardrobe choices of all FF characters. I just couldn't resist. Once again, sorry for the lateness!" _

**Change of Wardrobe**

Tifa sighed as she saw yet another shirt hanging on the back of the desk chair, its presence and a large hole under the arm announcing it was in need of her delicate reparations. This would be the third shirt this week and all of them were Cloud's. She knew he was being careful on the job and when any clothing of his underwent some light mauling from monsters (which was surprisingly fewer than you'd think) he always threw it away. Which was just as well, because by the time the fight was over, there'd be little to nothing left of the clothing in question. Such occasions had resulted in some interesting reactions in the patrons when Cloud came home, disgruntled, smeared with monster gore, and wearing a few tatters for a shirt.

Let's just say Tifa's female clientele had been steadily rising for a while now. Not that she could really blame them, to be quite honest, but she made sure Cloud never knew he was the reason behind the surge of feminine presence in the bar. You just don't sabotage good business like that.

However, when a shirt or pair of jeans were left on her chair, that meant it had simply been worn out and worried down to bare threads. The kids were bad enough, but Cloud was depressingly tough on clothing.

Frowning, she picked up the black shirt to inspect the damage, already rummaging around in a drawer for her sewing thread and needles. She'd never been much of a seamstress but taking care of two kids and Cloud had made it a necessity. Especially Cloud. Her eyes narrowed at the thought as she studied the rend in the cloth, her fingers expertly eploring the edges of the abused cloth.

"What the..." she muttered. Her frown deepened as she rubbed her fingers along an irregularity she'd found hidden in the dark shirt. She squinted and held it up to the light. "Oh, come on." There was already a row of fine, neat stitches in the shirt, patching a previous hole.

"This is ridiculous!" Tifa condemned the shirt by tearing it in half. "If it's so beat up why are you people bothering me with it? Just get a new one." With a sound of disgust, she tossed it into the trash, intending to have a nice chat with Cloud later, but paused as she began to walk away. She took a step backward and glared at the offending shirt.

It was nothing special. Black. Torn. Looking a little forlorn, maybe, at the bottom of the trash can. Now that she thought about it, all of the shirts she had mended in the past that were black or dark blue had belonged to Cloud. Every last one. Thoughtful, she wandered into Cloud's room, utterly ignoring his questioning look from where he was working on his sword sheathe at the workbench, and strode up to his closet. She flicked the doors open and with a quick glance, took stock of his wardrobe.

There really wasn't that much to take stock _of_. In fact, it took only a second for her to catalog every item. It wasn't that hard considering everything was black or navy blue and looked like it had been bought off the same pallet. Well, that, and the fact everything looked like it'd had several tours through hell. Tifa nodded as if this answered an unspoken question, then turned to Cloud, hands on her hips and decided, "You are going clothes shopping."

Cloud raised a pale eyebrow. "I am?"

"Yes. Most definitely. Immediately, in fact. Put that down, we're going right now. This is an emergency."

He snorted and turned back to the sheathe. "I think you're overreacting, Teef."

"Cloud, look at this." She indicated the closet with a wave of her hand. "It's a disaster. What exactly is your plan here? To wear black until they make something darker?"

"Tifa, it's clothing. It keeps me warm and decent. That's all it has to do."

Tifa raised an eyebrow, a glint in her eye. "Is that so?" she murmured.

"Besides," he went on, "Since it's all more or less the same color, it's easier to maintain. You know I'm hell on clothes. This makes it easier to replace the stuff that gets trashed."

He shook his head and added under his breath, "Since when did you care so much about what I wear?"

Cloud froze as two shapely arms sensuously twined around his shoulders from behind. Tifa plucked the hammer from his hand and set it down, then ran her hand through his hair while the other toyed with the zipper of his shirt.

"Maybe I've never complained because you look so much better without anything on," she murmured, her lips barely caressing his ear.

Cloud made a humming sound, eyes half-closed, far too distracted by the things her hands were doing to participate in conversation. Tifa smirked and slid both hands down his chest under his shirt, caressing smooth skin. She felt him shiver, muscle tightening under her fingers as he breathed unsteadily, and took the opportunity to add, "But maybe I want to do something about it now because I don't want everyone thinking my fiance is a goth."

"I'm not goth." He mumbled his standard defense against this accusation that the kids used on him now and then just to put a stick in his spokes. He usually ended up proving his 'non-goth' status by shamelessly bribing the kids with ice cream, to which end they would all agree he wasn't a goth for another week or two, then the sweet tooth would strike again.

"I know that, Cloud," she murmured into his ear. She teased his lips with her own for a second but when he leaned forward into the almost-kiss, she stood up, hands on her hips. "But not everyone else does. So that's why we're going shopping."

He turned and scowled at her and she gave him an innocent smile, complete with a flutter of eyelashes. Nine times out of ten, this technique worked on him, because she'd made sure to always give him what was denied after he'd done what she wanted. An uncharitable person would say it was the same attitude as training a dog, but if anyone so much as breathed a suggestion of this in Tifa's direction, she'd kick their ass between their ears. Cloud - _her_ Cloud - was no dog, but he was definitely a man and it has been a time-honored tradition since the dawn of humanity for a woman to shamelessly manipulate the man she loves and cherishes.

Besides, Cloud looked more like a chocobo than a dog, anyways.

This time however, Cloud was resisting her charms. Ever since on particular experience involving Aerith and clothes, he was incredibly wary of letting her dictate his clothing choice in anything. His eyes flicked to the hands on her hips and she had to smother a knowing grin when his eyes went farther down to admire her long legs. He licked his lips. "No, I'm not. I've got enough clothes."

"Cloud," she said in that teasing tone parents use, "Yes you are."

He folded his arms over his chest and fixed her with the glittering blue glare that made Sephiroth nervous and could make an ambushing dragon decide to seek less dangerous prey elsewhere, like Emerald Weapon.

"No."

**xXxXx**

Half an hour later, a defeated-looking Cloud morosely followed Tifa around a clothing store, plodding around with an almost childish petulance. The store was one of those huge ones that had ten different clothing stores all in one building and were only built in major cities. Many a poor soul had been lost in the labyrinth of racks and shelves and stalking bargain hunters. It was a place that no man dare venture alone. So while he grumbled and made it clear he was unhappy with this, he stuck very close to Tifa. Tifa, on the other hand, hummed a sweet little tune, utterly content with the world, as she sorted through piles of shirts and pants and ties and socks and all sorts of men's fashion that men so rarely pay attention to.

Tifa paused at a shelf full of folded shirts."Oooh. Cloud come here." She dragged his reluctant form into the aisle and held up a turquoise blue shirt against him. The vivid new dye of the shirt was a pale imitation compared to the dazzling wrath in his eyes as she hemmed and hawed over the proper size and style of neckline.

"You can stop glaring at me like that, you know I'm immune," Tifa said, depositing the shirt into the cart.

"Not immune." She knew he was truly grumpy when he started using fewer syllables. She cocked an eyebrow at him as she paused at a rack full of things bright and orange.

"If I'm not immune, then what am I?"

"High tolerance."

She hummed as if she were actually interested in the conversation. Extracting a bright orange t-shirt from the rack, she held it up against him and yet another dangerous spark of hate glimmered in his eyes. "So if I have a high tolerance, I assume that means if I get enough exposure I'll still overdose, is that it?"

He grunted an affirmative. Oooh, grunting. He _was_ pissed.

She sighed and tossed the shirt back on the rack. It wasn't his color anyway. She meandered over to another rack, picking over the selections. No, anything too bright would simply make it worse. A true mountain boy, with such pale skin...

Well, she was the same way, really. The sun fried them both like bacon and made even a slight tan a lofty achievement. Yet Cloud, with his light coloring, would look terrible in any of the brighter colors, make him look even more washed out and pale. If there was one thing Tifa didn't want him to look like, it was washed out - while she didn't think anything could truly mask the latent yet palpable mantle of strength around him, why would she want to hide such a thing? No, Cloud should look just the way he was - strong, capable, and really friggin' _hot. _Not that he needed much help in any category.

Tifa pulled out a dark green button down shirt and held it up for inspection. It was a good shirt, made of some kind of heavy felt that could be warm in the cool days, yet cool enough in summer with short sleeves and a wicking material. She lightly dragged a finger down the row of bronze-colored buttons thoughtfully, debating on how it would look on him...

...And suddenly, vividly, imagining herself slowly unbuttoning the shirt, button by slow button, and placing kisses on warm skin as it was gradually exposed...

Her hands shook slightly as she dumped it in the cart. "You're getting this one," she informed him. Keeping her back to him so he wouldn't see her blush, she rifled through the rack and found a few more shirts almost identical in cut and design, with a pocket on each breast, in colors of light blue, dark blue, and black. Yes, black. Say what you will about her being a hypocrite, but black was a color that could go with anything, and it could be dressed up or played down. Black was always a good color to have in the closet. Just not too much of it.

Besides, with his particular shirt, in the right setting, it would look sexy as hell on him.

Tifa cleared her throat. _Down, girl. _"Let's look over there," she said. Grabbing him with one hand and guiding the cart with the other, she marched off into an arbitrary direction, just doing anything to distract herself from thoughts of clothes and the man next to her - not necessarily together.

She'd begun sorting through another rack when Cloud grumbled something under his breath. Tifa didn't need to hear it to know what he'd said. Without looking up, she replied, "I know you don't like it Cloud, but you can't just get by on wearing the same clothes day in and day out."

Glare. Grunt.

"Because people notice those types of things," she answered. "People judge you based on appearance-"

Long, rumbling grunt at that, which she ignored.

"-Whether we like it or not. And _I_, for one, am not going to let people think less of _my_ Cloud just because he can't bring himself to go clothes shopping. Okay?" She straightened up and placed a dainty kiss on his rock-hard lips. "I haven't a single complaint about your looks." She winked suggestively and a little bit of the dangerous glow in his eyes faded. "I'm the happiest, most proud woman in the world because of you, Cloud. My Cloud." She stressed the possessive and he smirked a little. Well that was a good sign. Better than a grunt, at least.

She laced her hands behind his neck, not caring if others stared. "And can you blame me if I want to show off, just a little?"

He hummed, giving her a look that said, 'I'm not really buying it, but you're sales-pitch is awesome.'

"Good." She kissed him again and handed him another button down shirt that was a dark, blood red, reminding her a little of Vincent. "Now go try this on. It says XL but I want to make sure it fits. In fact," she grabbed a handful of shirts she'd found and dumped them all in his arms, "Try these on too. Just to be sure."

The glare he gave her over the mound of clothes could cut steel but she just smiled at him and batted her eyelashes. With a parting grumble, he went over to the changing rooms, gave the poor employee a glare until the man hurried to fix a tag to a door, then disappeared inside. Tifa gave him some time to try on the clothes, sorting through and dumping new selections in the cart as she followed after.

By the time she got there, he'd already opened the door and stepped out, still wearing his original shirt. "Fine," he stated, then dumped them back in the cart.

Tifa stared at him. "You couldn't have tried them _all _on."

Grunt. Shrug. He was doing his best to look invisible - for the first time, she thought he might be self-conscious. Well that made a bit of sense, now that she thought about it. He had spent five years of his life in an experiment tube under the tender mercies of Hojo and before that it had been the military life for him. Government issue left little to personalization. She'd never thought his nearly monochromatic choice had simply been from inexperience. She could well remember the hesitance and nervousness when she first began to go clothes shopping on her own. It had taken her a while to get used to it and find her own taste without a friend or mother to give feedback.

Unfortunately for Cloud, this would was his first plunge. Acknowledging his self-consciousness and accommodating it would merely embarrass him. So she'd treat him like Denzel or Marlene.

"Go try them again but this time, come out so I can see."

He didn't glare at her this time. His eyes were too wide and stunned for the razor precision requisite of a true glare. She put a handful of shirts in his limp grasp and pushed his shoulder gently, which did nothing to move him. "Go on."

Maybe he was too stunned. Maybe his circuits had been overloaded by surprise that she had told him to not only undress and redress in a public place, but to also _model_ for her on command. Cloud was a very private person and Tifa had just struck him to the core. The kicker was, and she felt a little bad for doing this to him, he'd actually do it, just because she asked.

Either way, he let her push him back into the changing room and close the door behind him. Then she sat down on a small folding chair put there for just such a purpose and waited.

It took Cloud a few minutes to muster up the courage, but she wisely refrained from knocking on the door and loudly calling his name. Do that would inflict a shame she wouldn't wish on her worst enemy. Memories of that happening to her still scarred her to this day.

She grew up with a really protective father, okay? One that wouldn't let his baby-girl out of his sight for a few seconds if he could help it. Cloud was a big boy. He didn't need checking up on.

Eventually he came out wearing a light blue shirt that nearly matched his eyes. Tifa showered him with praise - which did nothing to dim the loathing in his eyes at being put through this indignity - and told him to go back in and try on another. This kept up for quite a while, Cloud coming out to display and Tifa giving the cons and pros of each shirt. She had him bend at the waist and cross his arms over his chest as far as he could. Several times Tifa had to go running back to the racks she'd found the shirts and fetch back another size or so.

Though Cloud didn't look it because of his stature, he shirt size was fairly large. He wasn't as tall as some men, but he'd lead a long and physically demanding life in the mountains which only intensified under Shinra's gentle care. What he lacked in height he made up for in broadness in the chest and shoulders with dense muscle. He didn't carry that huge sword by magic - that was all him. As such, finding shirts that fit him properly and didn't bunch up or tighten in the wrong places was a challenge.

Tifa smirked as she handed Cloud another shirt. Clothes were made to fit the majority. And the majority of men out there simply didn't have the muscular build that Cloud did. That thought gave her a flash of purely possessive and proud satisfaction.

She also found a few pairs of nice slacks she thought he should have - just in case another special event came up - and had him try those on as well. When he emerged wearing black slacks and a very attractive, tailored red shirt, Tifa couldn't help but grin daffily, which he smirked at. He looked _sexy._

There was a loud crash behind her that made her jump and spin around, fists already coming up in defense. Instead of a slavering monster or silver-haired nightmare, there was a red-faced woman bending over to help an employee straighten out a clothing rack she'd run her cart into at full speed while she'd been staring at Cloud.

Tifa turned and grinned at him, smothering her giggles behind both hands. Cloud's smirk grew a little bit and he folded his arms across his chest - which the shirt flattered _very_ nicely - and leaned against the doorway in a roguish slouch that was definitely a lady-killer pose. Probably picked it up from Zack. His eyes were a bright, hypnotizing blue as he glanced at the blushing woman who couldn't seem to keep her eyes off him.

"Stop it!" Tifa hissed at him while she buried her face in the last shirt she meant for him to try on. Despite the precaution, her giggles were too loud and she hoped the poor woman couldn't hear her. When Cloud turned the sex appeal on, even when he didn't know when he was doing it, he was devastating. The only thing that kept her from melting like butter at his feet was the fact his gaze was trained elsewhere. It didn't matter the number of nightmares and monsters and near-death experiences she'd gone through without blinking, endured with a will of steel - whenever he turned those incredibly blue eyes on her, she couldn't help but go soft for him, just him. Only him.

The woman wobbled a bit on her heels as she stalked away and Tifa felt a pang of sympathy. He made her weak at the knees too. "Cloud!" she hissed, still grinning. That piercing blue casually flicked over to her and the heat in those depths stole her breath away.

"I think I should take up modeling," he said, his voice a low rumble that made her skin flush with heat.

Her eyes went wide and she blurted a warning, "Cloud!" before she caught the teasing glint in his eyes. With a great deal of effort, she resisted the urge to cross her arms over her chest and huff. So she settled for giving him a coy look under her lashes and murmuring, "Only I can ogle. All other women will just have to suffer."

His smirk grew and Tifa immediately knew that trouble was coming. He was planning something - and when he smiled like that, it was never something good.

Casually, acting as if he was totally unaware of what he was doing, Cloud began to unbutton the shirt. He nodded at the shirt hanging in her limp hands. "Is that the last one?"

Tifa sat there with her jaw suavely flapping in the breeze, eyes glued to his hands as they casually undid each shiny button. It was simply too much to absorb. Here before her, in a giant clothing store, Cloud - practically the definition of shyness and privacy - was stripping down for all to see. As she stared, something else was vying for attention in her brain with all the shock, something that had to do with a sudden heat in her belly. She stared...

"Tifa..."

Her eyes snapped up to his guiltily and damn that man, he knew full well what he was doing to her. There wasn't a trace of resistance or stiff-necked resentment in him now. Cloud _never_ felt a trace of remorse when he teased her like this.

She hoped he never did.

When their eyes met she was caught like a fly in a spider's web, trapped in that bright, pure aqua-blue. Warmth spread where their fingers touched when he'd begun to take the forgotten shirt in her hands. The heat tingled as it spread over her skin, a sweetly taunting ache that begged for more.

_BANG!_

_KRSH!_

The eye contact - which had started to get really intense - broke as their heads snapped toward the aisle. Yet another woman had inadvertently been set on a collision course with a clothing rack, but this one had taken out two others when it went down. The woman - apparently buying ties for her husband if the two in her hand were anything to judge by - bent to pick it up, apologizing profusely to the same employee that had helped the first one. The man glared at them.

Tifa could already see the words, 'No shirt, no service, get the hell out' being primed and readied. Acting on finely honed and sophisticated feminine intuition, Tifa decided they had concluded shopping for the day. "Get dressed. We're going," she whispered and Cloud hurried to obey while she quickly organized all the clothes they'd be buying. Neither of them could quite smother their smiles, though.

In a few seconds, Cloud was dressed - appropriately, this time - and they were rushing for the checkout. The cashier, a teen with blue hair, raised an eyebrow at the amount of clothing they were buying, then eyed Cloud. Some decision was reached behind all those piercings because she smiled pleasantly and asked him if he had a membership card.

Tifa narrowed her eyes at that as she produced the card. As if a man would carry a membership card to a clothing store. Future shopping endeavors with him took on a new edge of risk. At least she'd browbeat him into leaving the sword at home - but she hadn't expected an outside threat like this. Tifa made a point of putting her engagement ring right where the fluorescent lights would catch it best, sending up sparkles from the money-drunk diamond. "Oh, he'd lose it in no time if he carried it," she said in her best don't-mess-with-this voice. It was something only women could do and still sound pleasant.

The cashier gave her a oh-so-he's-claimed-like-that-bothers-me look. "Yeah, I know how that is. My last boyfriend was the same way."

Tifa turned on that I-will-break-you-if-you-infringe smile that was bright enough to make suns feel like they needed to hit the gym. "Men? What can you do with them?"

"I know, right?" The cashier looked away, a polite I-was-just-looking smile on her face. "Credit or debit?"

Tifa paid and punched in the numbers while the clothes were packed up in expensive looking bags with the store name on them. From the corner of her eye, Tifa saw Cloud's eyes flicking from her to the cashier, knowing something had just gone down and not quite sure what it was.

Silly men. They thought territorial fights between dogs and themselves. A charming misconception, really. What made it so cute was the fact he had no idea she'd been marking him as her claimed territory for a long time, starting with hand-knit scarves and packed lunches.

"We're going straight home, right?" Cloud asked once they set foot into the mall proper. He gave her a hopeful look, not quite begging. Too often he'd gone shopping with her and once they had finished it turned out they needed another thing... and another thing... and another thing...

Tifa opened her mouth to ease his torture and say yes, they were going straight home, when a store front caught her eye from across the open court. "There's one more thing I have to get. Wait for me at the car, okay?"

He looked doubtful as she unloaded the bags she held onto him. "What is it?" he asked carefully, not really sure if he wanted to know.

It took all the willpower she possessed and biting her lip to not laugh at her next words. "Educational toy."

"Oh." He looked somewhat mollified if not entirely satisfied with her answer. Probably thought she saw something Denzel or Marlene had asked for.

Oh, if only he knew.

**xXxXx**

Forty minutes later, a very bored and annoyed Cloud perked up when he spotted Tifa approaching across the parking lot. She smiled as he leaned out the open window and waved at him. His eyes narrowed automatically - she had something up her sleeve, he just knew it. On instinct, his gaze flicked to the plain pink bag she was carrying. It was conspicuously free of any markings or logos.

"Ready to go?" Tifa chirped as she slid into the passenger seat.

"What'd you get?" he asked.

"Oh, a surprise."

Like he was going to buy that. Probably something he was going to regret later. "Tifa," he said warningly.

"Cloud," she said in the exact same tone.

There was no getting anything out of her when she did that. Whatever surprise she had for him, he'd just have to wait until she sprung it to find out what it was. "Nothing," he sighed and put the car in reverse.

It wasn't long until they pulled up in front of the bar once again. Marlene and Denzel swarmed out and, too late to realize their folly, were pressed into service unloading the car. Once they learned that all the bags were destined for Cloud's room, they seemed much more interested in the chore. He caught Marlene whispering something to Tifa, who grinned and nodded. He just sighed wearily.

Women. They were all conspiring against him.

Once all the bags were in his room, he retired to the bar proper to find a snack. All that hideous, horrible, heinous, _evil_ clothes shopping had made him hungry. Oooh, salami.

He was just beginning to mow down a sandwich while Tifa made something delicious on the stove when the kids burst into the room, yammering about something. Tifa shushed them with a single word and a flourish of her stirring spoon, like she always does, and listened as they chattered away at her at slightly reduced speeds.

Cloud leaned against the refrigerator and focused on polishing off his sandwich. In a few seconds, Tifa said something that made the kids squeal with glee and run upstairs. He quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Sleepover at Alex's," she said, stirring the stew. He grunted an affirmative then crunched up the paper plate in one hand, tossing it into the trash across the kitchen with a lazy flick of the wrist. Tifa's eyes narrowed at that - she had to take careful aim to hit that trash can from where he was standing but he never had to try when doing it.

"I'll go unpack everything," he said.

"Dinner is on in ten minutes."

With a parting grunt that told her he'd heard, he went upstairs and spent a few minutes staring at the depressing amount of bags scattered everywhere. Sighing, he started to unload and detag and pack up all the clothing. How in the hell had she even found this much stuff in a single store? He grumbled to himself as he folded the stuff up and put it in the appropriate drawers.

"How does she expect me to wear all this stuff?" he asked no one. He tore a label off a heavy-knit button up shirt and he paused to rub the cloth between his fingers. After a moment, he decided he liked that one.

Maybe Tifa had been right. A little variety in clothing might be a good thing - but dammit, he just didn't want this _much._ It felt strange, seeing all the half-empty drawers in the closet suddenly filled with color.

It was down to one last bag and he stood in front of his closet wondering how in the hell he was going to get it in there, when Tifa called him downstairs for dinner. More than happy to abandon the chore, he dropped the bag where it lay and went down to join her.

Dinner was delicious - as always - but quiet without the kids. They made a little small talk but were generally quiet. They were both keeping tabs on the news - the WRO was making a move to eliminate all the leftover Mako reactors and the first attempts had already met overwhelming presence of monsters. The situation was heating up, and it made them both nervous. Tifa gave him a warm smile that made his heart flip when he reached across the table to take her hand in his.

Cloud cleaned up dinner, as usual, and was rewarded with a kiss before Tifa vanished upstairs. Shortly after, he heard the shower turn on.

By the time he'd gotten upstairs to brush his teeth, Tifa had already left the bathroom, leaving a spicy sweet fragrance lingering in the air. He made short work of his ablutions and once more returned to his room.

And to that stupid bag, still waiting to find a home.

He glared at it as he shuffled around his room, getting his PJ's on, which consisted of pajama pants. The mako fever Shinra had so considerately given him made it too warm to wear much else, especially now that spring was warming up.

He had one last shirt in hand and was staring at the closet, hoping to find a space to squeeze it in when he heard the door open.

"I can't find a home for this," he said. Tifa chuckled.

"I can think of a few," she purred.

He raised an eyebrow, already prepping a comeback about a woman's unnatural packing ability, when he turned around.

Something made a choked whimpering sound. It may have been him.

Tifa was wearing some kind of sexy, silky, lingerie - bright red - that barely covered the 'essentials'. His shocked mind registered lace. Lots and lots of lace and sheer fabric and it looked terribly complicated to put on, much less remove.

It made his mouth water. Which was a problem considering he was staring at her with his mouth hanging open.

Tifa smiled and wrapped a strand of hair around her finger teasingly. "Still think clothing is meant to keep you just warm and decent?"

He didn't need to use words to answer that question.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, past all the wonderful things her mouth was doing to his and the heady scent of perfume that'd be illegal to wear in public, one thought floated up from his consciousness before his brain shut down for the night.

He could come to like shopping for clothes.


End file.
